


Unplanned Road Trip

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Tom go on an unplanned road trip</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unplanned Road Trip

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the “roadtrip” square on my trope_bingo card.

The desert was washed in harsh sunlight, which sent heat shimmers baking up from asphalt up to the sky. Chris squinted against the glare, trying to stop the pain of an impending headache from obscuring his vision. His mouth felt as dry as the desert outside, and he tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of it, even though it hadn’t been long since he’d last had a drink of water. 

Tom was silent beside him; blue-eyed gaze trained intermittently upon the road ahead before being transferred to the rear view mirror. The Englishman had been oddly silent for most of the day now, which unnerved Chris more than the thing that was following in their wake. He found himself whishing that Tom would speak, just so that he knew the other man was alright and coping better than he himself was. 

He shifted behind the wheel, hands sliding over the leather and feeling the heat from the desert day baking into the meat of his palms as he moved. He opened his mouth, ready to ask Tom whether he was okay, how he was holding up, what he wanted for dinner, anything just to hear the other man speak. He didn’t get the chance to, however; Tom broke the silence first, low purr of a voice warm and unaffected hanging between them. 

“The coast is clear, so far,” he said, and Chris caught the other man’s smile as Tom turned his face to Chris’ momentarily. 

That smile seemed to transform Tom’s face, turning his expression from a now perpetually taut, tense, stressed one into his previously happy one; Chris realized only then just how much he’d missed Tom’s smile. He smiled back, glad for the reason for it, shifting his eyes from the shimmering road ahead for just a few seconds to glance in Tom’s direction. 

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” he murmured, and Tom merely nodded back at him. 

It seemed to Chris that they had been running for an age, when he supposed that it had been little more than two days, travelling across country, ever moving, seeing nothing but miles of endless desert, broken only by the odd, sun drenched town that stood out starkly against a bleak landscape. Each town had seemed ever more bland and water-parched than the last and Chris had barely slept the night before through worry. Even the scant sleep that he had managed to grab seemed hurried, broken by dreams of fire and of heat, flames licking at the back of his mind until he awoke with a scream and a covering of sweat that seemed too cold for the hot night that surrounded them. 

His mind replayed once again all that had happened merely a week prior, events that had eventually forced the both of them into an unplanned road trip across the country. Even though they hadn’t known it at the time, it had started from the moment they’d bought a house together and had started investigating the cellar that resided beneath the ground floor of their new home; almost from the first moment they saw it, they‘d decided to convert the roomy space into a wine cellar, and to start making their own wine and beer. They’d found a bricked up door in the depths of the cellar, festooned in cobwebs and shadows and despite Tom’s initial misgivings, Chris had smashed the brickwork down; in thanks for all his curiosity, he’d unleashed something from within its darkened depths, something that rushed past them in a haze of smoke and sulphur, leaving an ominous, threatening presence in its wake.

On closer inspection, the room behind the bricked up door was cramped and dark, obviously designed to keep something contained judging by the crucifixes and holy items that were liberally dotted around the walls. Tom had half-heartedly joked that a demon must have been walled up within their cellar, a joke that would prove to be the worst kind of prediction. 

It had started manifesting that night, a ghostly ethereal shape realised in flames that had appeared after midnight, laying burning hands of fire against Tom’s chest and threatening to strip flesh from bones and heart from ribcage through dint of sheer heat alone. That threat of impending death, coupled with the house beginning to burn around them, had forced Chris and Tom to take refuge in a nearby hotel, yet the demon had managed to find them by morning‘s grey light. They’d tried to escape to Tom’s parents house, yet the demon had followed them even there.

Instead of endangering Tom’s unwitting family further, they’d seen fit to take their impromptu road trip, to try and outrun the thing; despite how many twists and turns they made across country, every evasion they made hadn’t worked. The demon always managed to find them again. 

It had been Tom’s idea initially to head for the mountains, in the hopes that the snow and the frigid air of higher climes would be enough to either kill the demon outright, or slow it down enough for them to kill it themselves. Chris hadn’t been convinced initially, yet neither he, nor Tom, could think of an alternative measure. Neither one of them could determine a cause for why the demon was stalking them, other than at Tom’s suggestion that it had mindlessly attached itself to them because they’d been the ones who’d unwittingly released it from its prison. Chris was more willing to believe him that time.

That night, they stopped at a nondescript motel they found by the side of the highway, dust blown and lit with neon signs that flickered and buzzed erratically into the desert night. The wind that blew across the open vistas was cold and Chris shivered his way into their room, Tom his constant shadow. It didn’t take them long to settle down, both too tired to do anything more than take a quick and perfunctory snack and head to bed.

That night, Chris slept well, and awoke refreshed in the morning, feeling better than he had for days. Tom made the usual remarks about needing to cut his hair, as he ran slender fingers through his curls, beginning to bunch around his ears. 

“Nah, mate, you’re good,” Chris mumbled, as he always did, knowing full well that Tom probably wouldn’t cut it. 

Tom always made that same remark and his hair remained that same length; he supposed they had even less reason to worry about such trivial matters as hair length when they were faced with the fire demon in their wake. Tom mumbled out a smile, still tired around the edges despite the sleep that had cleared up at least some of the dark smudges beneath his eyes. They showered, dressed, partook of a light breakfast before making their way to the mountains, only now just visible on the horizon and brushing the sky with snow covered peaks. 

That day, it was Tom’s turn to drive and Chris had been lulled into a false sense of security, his more relaxed state helped by Tom’s sudden loquacious mood; the Englishman regaled him with tales of his time in Cambridge and certain hazing tricks he and his fellow classmates had partaken in. Chris had laughed in all the right places, glad for the distraction from their troubles, glance only occasionally drifting up to the rear view mirror to check on their status. It was at one of these times when he saw the demon, a bright and fiery speck on the horizon rapidly drawing nearer.

“It’s there, isn’t it?” Tom asked, yet by the tone of his voice, he made the question sound more like a statement. 

“Yeah,” Chris replied, but didn‘t prevaricate further.

He’d been expecting the demon to make an appearance as much as Tom himself had, yet he’d still thought they would have had longer away from it . They drove the rest of the way in silence, yet the demon seemed to be pacing them, as though it was trying to instil in them a false sense of security by remaining in the distance. 

They were climbing up into the mountains when the demon finally closed the distance between them, drawing closer until it was almost clearly visible in the rear-view, instead of being a bright speck in the horizon. Its great winged body could clearly be seen, even at three miles in the distance.. Chris was reminded once again of the old tales of the phoenix rising from the flames, although it was afar more deadly than that mythical bird could ever be.

They continuing driving up the mountainside in silence, finally stopping the car when they road petered out into a mass of blasted rocks that barred the way. Tom was the first to climb out of the car; Chris soon joined him and by silent agreement began climbing still further up the mountainside; they were shivering despite their woollen clothes and thick jackets, casting glances behind them as the fire demon coasted in their wake. 

Eventually they stopped and took shelter in a cave, when the first fat flakes of snow began drifting down from the iron grey clouds that threatened overhead. They remained silent and stoic; Tom stacked fallen branches he’d dragged from the mountainside into a fire close to the mouth of the cave, while Chris kept an eye out for flames of a different kind.

Eventually when the fire was all but roaring in the mouth of the cave, the demon finally made its appearance and alighted outside, great wings stretched out in flaming arcs from its body, lighting up the side of the mountain with a warm orange glow. It shrieked, its very voice threatening and searing through the darkening sky, seeming to set the flakes around it afire, causing them to sizzle and to burn and to steam into nothing.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Tom asked, and once again his question seemed more like a statement, as though he was expecting to die.

“I hope not,” Chris replied, and even his voice sounded defeated to his own ears.

Tom didn’t reply; instead, he moved closer to Chris, as the demon outside stalked nearer to the mouth of the cave, attracted by the flames of their fire and the heat of their bodies standing on the other side of it. The demon’s eyes found them, bored into them and again it shrieked a challenge, as though blaming them for waking its eternal slumber and seeking vengeance for it. 

Neither man moved, not knowing quite what to do, somehow knowing that the fire would not be enough to fend it off forever. Chris didn’t want to point out the obvious that the demon itself was made of fire; he doubted that the flames Tom had created could possibly harm it. 

The snow fell thicker now, and the demon settled outside, curling its flaming body into a graceful feline like repose upon the ground; it watched them as though curious to see what they would do. Chris shivered, more from fear and discomfort than from cold. 

They continued waiting and the snow fell thicker still, flakes streaming down from the sky in white, eddying clouds. Their fire started to die down and Tom began running out of fuel to throw upon its hungry jaws; Chris began to grow more than a fearful of their impending doom. He sat down and waited for the end.

It was Tom who first noticed it happening, tall, slender body pacing the width of the cave and throwing glances outside at the still waiting demon. Chris had already remarked that it was as though the demon was trying to draw them out, waiting for their fire to die or for them to starve, whichever happened first. Tom had not replied to that, causing Chris to fall silent once more. 

“It’s melting,” Tom said, suddenly, voice sharp with sudden tension that seemed to vibrate as much in his body as in his voice.

“The snow?” Chris asked, dispassionately.

“The demon,” Tom said, swiftly raised hand suddenly beckoning Chris to his side.

Chris was up on his feet in an instant, bright blue eyes scanning the snow covered vistas outside. As Tom had intimated, the demon was sizzling, size diminishing as though it was, indeed, melting. Steam flowed from the thing's body and wings, snow coating its large frame. They could even hear the sizzling sound of its flames arcing through the air, sounding like so many coals being gradually put out, as the snow began to attack its flaming body. Tom grabbed hold of Chris, slender hands surprisingly strong against his brawny arm, and shook him, a sound of unmitigated joy leaking past parted lips as he did so. Chris couldn’t help but grin back at the other man; he felt hope beginning to blossom in his chest, even as the demon began to writhe outside, terrible screams wracking the air as the snow continued to dampen its flames. 

It seemed an age to both Chris and Tom before the demon was nothing more than a melted patch of snow upon the ground and a memory forever burned into their shared consciousness. Tom was the first to make his way out onto the mountainside, staring down at the slushy puddle that had once been a demon. 

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” he said, as though he doubted his own idea all along.

“Neither can I, but as long as it doesn’t come back, I don’t really care,” Chris said, with a grin threatening to stretch his face out of shape. 

They fell silent then, staring down at the melted ground as slowly, the snow stopped falling. Behind them, the flames of their fire grew too low to sustain life and it died, leaving them alone on the mountainside, unprotected yet safe, at last.


End file.
